Nothing but Nought
by dogcatlover
Summary: Peter is the son of Callie Rose and Tobey. Despite his parents' dire warnings about the Liberation Militia (LM), the group of nought freedom fighters, Peter joins them. Peter is not Cross, but neither is he a nought. How can he be accepted into the LM? He wants to fight for equality for noughts and Crosses, but he doesn't know how dangerous a game he will become a part of...
1. Chapter 1

**Nothing but Nought**

one. Peter

It's finally my fifteenth birthday. People would think I'd be expecting presents, and the whatnot, but no. All I want for my birthday is peace and the truth. It might be a strange thing to wish for, and ask for, but I don't even know if I'm going to get it. I live in a world where the colour of your skin decides how you're treated. The ruling blacks, or Crosses as we call them, are the ones who get all the glory and great treatment, and get the jobs and the good education and all the seats in Parliament. Then there are the noughts, the inferior white, who are treated like scum by the Crosses, and are always looked down on. People push them about and cheer and laugh if they get hurt. They think all noughts are terrorists. If a Cross is put in jail, they don't even mention the fact the person is a Cross, but when it's a nought, it's the first thing they say.

I have a major problem. I'm not a Cross. But I'm not a nought either. I'm half. Or halfer, as some people call me when I'm out. It's a horrible word, but I can't stop them saying it. Mum says she was called that when she was my age, too. My mum is Callie Rose Hadley, and my dad Tobey Durbridge. My full name is Peter Callum Hadley-Durbridge. My middle name is my grandfather's, my mum's dad. He was hanged for being a nought terrorist and rapist, but none of what he was accused of was actually true. Mum found that out from Grandma the year before I was born.

I'm lighter than Mum, but darker than Dad, who's a nought. Mum and Dad both tell me that noughts are treated much better now than they were when they were small, and the treatment of noughts was clearly even worse in Grandma and Grandpa's day. What do noughts have to do to be treated equally? Stupid question. I know better than that. It's just painful, listening to Dad moan about what he went through, and wanting the best he can give me, which, according to him, isn't much, but I'm not saying anything. Until I found out stuff about Dad he'd never told me.

I just know that my dad regrets what he did, every time I see him look at me, I see that painful look in his eyes, that faraway look that means he's always wondering if he should've handled things differently, and I'm pretty sure he thinks he should have.

I'm too busy letting my mind wander back to my parents, who will be wondering where I am now, probably panicking. That's just like them, especially since I didn't tell them where I was going. I didn't want to, I wasn't supposed to. I can still remember the conversation we had, clear as anything. After all, it was only this morning. I know I shouldn't, but I think I'll let my mind slip back a few hours, to rid me of this nervous feeling rising in my stomach for what I'm about to do.

I'd gone downstairs, dressed in fatigue combats, a khaki shirt and jacket and thick black mountain hiking boots. Dad had wandered into the kitchen from the study. As usual, he looked exhausted. He spent most of his night at the computer, emailing his boss. He can't help it. He panics that he'll lose his job after he'd worked for the Dowds' restaurant when he was my age, slightly older. He looked at me, rubbing his face furiously. 'Why're you dressed like that, Pete?'

I shrugged. 'I'm going out for a bit.'

'In that?'

'Yes.'

'But why? It's Saturday.'

'So? I've got places to be, people to see.'

'Who?'

'Why all the questions, Dad? I don't need an interrogation, OK?' Dad regarded me slowly. Then he came round the table and crouched a little so his face was at my face's level. He locked eyes with me before he spoke.

'I know that, son,' he said. 'I just don't want you to make any mistakes we did, OK?'

I nodded slowly, as to not give the game away. I was disobeying him, in a sense. 'You've told me all this before. I know it.' My tone was slightly harsher than I'd intended, but it didn't matter. It had the desired effect. Dad drew back, and nodded.

'Alright, but phone us now and again, just so we know you're OK.' I shrugged, not committing myself to an answer.

'Peter!' Dad said sternly. 'Promise me.'

'OK.' I said the word impatiently. 'Can I go now?' Dad gestured out.

'Go before I change my mind,' he said. 'Be careful.' I'd run out the door and not looked back.

Like Mum, I love it here on Grandma Sephy's beach. Or at least I thought I did. I'm never sure what I love now, apart from her. She's making my world fall apart, and the only life support I have is her. Staring at my watch, I realised she's fifteen minutes late. Huh, funny. My fifteenth birthday, she's fifteen minutes late. Time passed so fast, like the sand grains beneath my feet that I hadn't noticed. Eventually, I could make out a shadow coming out of the dark gloom towards me, and suddenly she was there. 'Hello, Peter,' she said softly, reaching out to caress my face. At her touch, I felt electrified. She leant in, and I knew what she wanted. I met her more than halfway, and we kissed for at least thirty seconds before pulling apart. 'I thought you'd forgotten,' I admitted when I could speak again. Her sweet laugh echoed around the empty beach.

'Forget meeting you? Me?' she repeated. 'No I couldn't. Kate never forgets anything to do with boys.' She took my hand and started pulling me the way she'd come. 'Come on, Pete. If we don't get going we'll be late.'

'For what?' I asked as I let her pull me forwards.

'The film, dummy.' I stared. No, she hadn't.

'You mean you booked tickets for that sci-fi film I wanted to see?' She turned back to me.

'Of course. I'll do anything to be with you.' She hugged me tightly, and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. I smiled widely at her, and eagerly followed her back into the gloom, towards the city.

When we got to the city, I couldn't stop staring at the blaring bright lights. My mind was telling me to stop diverting the inevitable and get on with it. My day with Kate was just a diversion so my real purpose, which was much more sinister. Kate's hand on my arm pulled me back to the present, and she pulled me towards the Cineplex again. We halted at the entrance, and I knew what to do next. I turned to Kate. 'Look, Kate, I think you should go on in and get our seats. I'll be there in a minute – I want to buy some doughnuts.' I indicated the stand to the right of the Cineplex.

'From there?' I had to nod, and watch as Kate looked at me, confused, but still nodded, dropped my hand and walked inside. A tight knot of guilt was tying itself in my stomach. How could I use Kate as my alibi like that? Yet, I knew that I had no choice. That was what he'd told me to do.

I was following my Dad's tracks, yet I couldn't help myself.

I moved over to the doughnut stand, and tapped my fist on the counter. An unshaved man wearing a filthy apron appeared a chewed cigarette in his mouth, which he was still smoking. He grunted, 'Yeah? What do you want?'

'I would like to buy a sugar-free doughnut,' I said, and while I spoke, I slipped the contact card the man had sent me into the doughnut stand owner's hand. The dirty man looked down at it, and stared back at me.

'You better come round, then,' he grunted, and opened the little gate-like door at the side of the stand. It was easy for me to slip round – there was no one else buying from any of the stalls nearby or that one. The man led me round the back, to the lorry the stall was the trailer to. He got into the driver's seat, and pressed a button which released the stall from the back. 'Get in then, boy,' the stall owner said, blowing filthy smoke into my face. I held my nose and tried to not to breathe it in. I climbed in next to him, and we drove off.

I knew where we were going. I was being taken to the LM headquarters. We stopped outside the house that used to belong to Alex McAuley, who was now dead. Dad had killed him when he was seventeen. That was something that made me sick about my father. But, I guess I wasn't any better. 'Get out.' The man spat the words at me. I didn't need telling twice. I unbuckled my belt, and leapt out of the lorry, which sped away the moment I had slammed the door shut behind me. I stood in the dust the lorry had left behind and stared up at the house before me. I can't describe it. It was just like any other house on the street, in Meadowview, the rubbish-tip-like place where all noughts live. This includes my Great-Nana Meggie and me, Mum and Dad. Grandma Sephy used to live here, until she married Nathan, who, being a Cross, has a huge house that he and Grandma now live in.

I couldn't quite bring myself to go up to the door and ring the bell. I couldn't believe I was finally doing this. Steeling myself, I ran to the door before I changed my mind, and knocked, hard. The door was instantly opened, but only slightly. There was a gold chain on the door, stopping anyone from opening it any further. A tall, burly man with dark glasses stuck his head through the gap. 'Yeah? What, sonny?'

'I….I….I,' My lips wouldn't form the words – I was panicking.

'Look, I ain't got all day. Unless you got something important to say, get outta here.'

'I'm here to see Mr Newton,' I said. Newton had taken over from McAuley.

The burly man stared at me for a second, no more. Then he held out his thick, meaty hand, and I discreetly thrust my card at him. I couldn't see his eyes, but I knew he was glaring at me as he compared the picture on my ID card to my face. After all, the LM couldn't just let anyone enter.

After a long time of glaring, the guard slammed the door in my face, and I heard the rustling as he undid the chain on the door. Then, when he opened the door again, he opened it enough that I could slip inside. Once I was in, the guard slammed the door again, so hard it rattled on its hinges. I stood stock-still in the hallway, and the guard turned to me.

'Mr Newton is in the back room. His study.' The guard paused, beckoning to me. 'He'll be expecting you. You'll sit in the garage until he is ready for you. A guard will come to accompany you to Mr Newton's study. D'you understand?' I swallowed, and nodded immediately. The guard gave me one last scathing look, and began walking away. I had to run to keep up, his stride was so brisk.

About a minute later, the guard turned sharply left and led me into what I could only assume was the garage. It was tiny, but then it didn't need to be any bigger. With graffiti all over the walls, and an old, hard wooden chair with a straight back bolted to the floor, it didn't look at all welcoming. It wasn't supposed to. The guard strode to the chair. 'Sit.' The word was said with coldness and a sneer. With the metal grilles as the only walls and the bitter winds leaking through, the room was freezing, and I couldn't help shivering. The guard smirked nastily. 'Cold, are you? You shouldn't be here anyway, halfer,' he said, and I couldn't help but wince at the venom in his voice. 'Maybe you'll be a traitor just like your father.' My hands curled into fists at my sides at that. I had known the fact that I'm not totally nought or Cross would come up at some point. I still said nothing. 'Or maybe you'll be a useless brat like your mother.' I wanted to punch and kick out then, but I knew there was no point – the guard would knock me unconscious the minute I lashed out. I swallowed and it took all my willpower to control my limbs.

'I vow I will be loyal and useful to the LM,' I said with as much calm as I could muster up, but still with a tinge of sarcasm.

The guard sneered at me and stepped forward. He lifted his hand and slapped me across the face. I wanted to rub my face, but I wasn't going to show any softness in the guard's presence. 'That will show you who's boss around here, and who you should show respect, or you'll get hurt.' I knew the guard was serious, so stayed silent but stared at him without blinking. He looked at me with absolute disgust written across his face. 'You'll stay here 'til someone comes for you.' With those words, he slammed out, locking the door audibly behind him.

I now knew I was trapped until another guard came to take me to Newton.

8


	2. Chapter 2

**Nothing but Nought**

two. Tobey

I won't say that I haven't made mistakes in my lifetime, 'cause I have. I always thought that people, and by that I mean Crosses, think they know best, so they all believe noughts are terrorists, no doubt about it. The moment I got involved with that slimeball McAuley, I was trapped, and yet I didn't know it – or, if I did, I had been too stupid and desperate for the money he promised to realise it. I'm glad I killed that monster, what else could I do after he'd attacked my precious Callie like that? He showed no remorse, too, which made him even worse.

It's people like McAuley, and the LM in general, that make Crosses think we're all terrorists. I can count on the fingers on my left hand the people who see me and all the other noughts as we are: human beings, who aren't all out to get the ruling Crosses, no matter how much truth they find in the fact that we despise most of them. Those people are people I know personally, and are now a part of my family: Callie Rose, my wife, Callie's mum - Sephy and her husband Nathan – Callie's now late grandmother, Jasmine Hadley and that's it. All the other Crosses I meet walk to the other side of the street and give me looks that could kill or looks of fear from there, and I hate it.

Callie's on my side, though, because people do the same to her, because she's half of both – dual heritage. That's hard in itself, and I love my Callie for being so brave and strong about it. Of course, she and I both know we both had a momentary vicious lapse in our constant, yet peaceful, stand to fight for equality.

She hated her Granddad Kamal, too right; the guy's a bastard still, and wanted to get rid of him. She was prepared to give up her own life to kill him, and I know that, because she told me that's what she was planning to do on that morning we spent together on her Nana Jasmine's private beach. Me, I was just desperate for money to help my family. We were dangling right at the bottom of the breadline, and I needed money in any way I could get it. I made the wrong choice, and accepted my ex-friend Dan's advice that I should work for McAuley or the Dowds. Lot of good it did me. Scarred me for life, and I'm terrified that Peter is going to follow my stupid tracks. I can't stop him – whatever we tell him, his mind, his body, his life is still his own and we can't control that. Neither of us has ever tried to, but we are trying to protect him. I can't tell if it's working or not.

I wonder why he was in such a hurry this morning. He's a teenager, and normally he sleeps as late as he can at the weekend. Something weird is going on, and I don't like the way my thoughts are taking me. Surely not. He can't be a member of the LM? Or even thinking about joining? Not after all Callie and I have told him about them? I wish with all my heart that my thoughts are as far from the truth as it is possible to get, but I don't know. I can't see what my son is doing now – I just hope it's not something stupid and dangerous. To be honest, I can't believe I let him go so easily – I should've questioned him more, and tried to stop him from going, just in case. I know it would be better to have an angry son who's grounded and not speaking to me than to have a son who has learnt to kill and maim Crosses just because he has been told he is a freedom fighter, or he is doing it for money. I don't want Peter to become the hollow, cold shell of himself that Callie and I both did.

Yet I'm terrified that he will.

And there'll be nothing Callie or I can do about it.

I was washing the dishes stood in the kitchen, when I heard footsteps on the stairs, and Callie appeared in the doorway. God, although I've been married to her for the last two years, it still amazes me how beautiful she is, and the fact that she's mine and has vowed to be forever. I was just watching her gorgeous face as her long, slender legs helped her make her way towards me, and she kissed me tenderly on the lips. I wanted her to linger for longer than a few seconds, but she didn't, and softly pulled away. 'Morning, Tobey,' she said to me, her sweet smile already warming my heart. She looked carefully around the room. 'Where's my son? I thought I heard him come down about an hour ago.'

I turned quickly away, unable to meet her eyes. 'He's…he's gone out,' I managed, careful not to let my hidden guilt come across in my speech. Callie put a hand on my shoulder and helped herself to a banana that was just lying on the table.

'Have you any idea where? You did ask him about it before he went, didn't you?' The words were just a question, but I couldn't miss the slight accusatory note in her voice.

'Of course I did,' I said sharply. What sort of father was I if I didn't check where my son was off to? Especially in this world, where the colour of his skin decides how he is going to be treated. Callie regarded me with a strange look, and then shrugged and dodged round me to put the kettle on for a cup of coffee.

'Coffee?' she asked, and I nodded, already wincing inside at how harsh my reply must have sounded to her. She must've read my mind, because next minute, her arms had slipped round me and she muttered: 'I don't mean to be so accusatory, but you know we've got to look out for him, and ourselves. Look out in front, behind and from our sides.' I smiled grimly and nodded.

'I know. I'm sorry, but I just have...' I couldn't tell her what my thoughts were telling me. No, I couldn't. She stared up at me, her head tilted to one side, the way it always was when she sensed something she needed to question about to be said.

'Tobey?' she prompted, a slight note of panic in her voice. I opened my mouth again to say something, and the words I so wanted to say just flew out of the window.

'It's nothing,' I said softly, trying to reassure her. 'I'm having concerns about my job, that's all.' I breathed a sigh of relief as she relaxed in my arms and went to pour out the coffee. My job had been the perfect lie – she knew I was worried about that.

Later, I was sat in front of the computer, as usual, emailing Mr Thompson, my new boss. Suddenly, a strange urge overtook me, and I clicked on the internet icon on the bottom of the screen, and in the search engine I typed 'Alex McAuley', and about 2,000 results came up, all at once. I clicked on the Wikipedia biography and read it.

After I'd read it through three times, I sat back in the chair and took a deep breath. Staring at the computer screen filled with text, I fought a bizarre desire to laugh. How could anyone have got McAuley's biography so wrong? I opened up the email I'd been sending to Mr Thompson, signed it off and sent it. I had more important things to do now, things to put right. Clicking back on the Wikipedia page, I selected the edit button and got down to work rewriting the biography of a man I knew from real experience.

An hour or so later, I admired my handiwork. I had completely changed the writing, so people would now know what he had really been like, and that his company still hadn't gone. I sat there in silence, with the door closed. A bird tweeted as it came to rest on the apple tree in the back garden. How could something so natural, so innocent still live in a world like this? My mind wandered, and it wandered to my ex-best friend Dan, who, as far as I know, was still serving his ten year prison sentence for McAuley's murder and for running from the police. I guess I should just be glad he knows I didn't, and wouldn't, turn him in, no matter that he's my ex-best friend. He saved my life by killing McAuley, and not turning him in is the best thanks I could give him considering his situation. I stared outside, wishing my thoughts could reach his mind. 'Dan, I wish I could come and visit you. I do. I think about doing it every day, but surely you can guess why I haven't. It'd be too dangerous. The police already know me after the drug dealing with McAuley, and they know I know you, 'cause I bailed you out last time, remember?' I just wanted to say that out loud, get it off my chest.

I don't know for sure how long I sat there, but a horrid thought suddenly struck me. What if Peter was doing what I thought he was doing and they'd already told him to kill someone? Or to deal drugs? Or suppose he'd found Dan's secret lockup? I couldn't let my son get sucked into the violent world I did. The last thing I wanted was him holding a gun or a knife and wanting, or knowing, how to use it on someone. This family didn't need any more hatred. Before I'd even thought my plan through, I'd turned off my laptop, grabbed my car keys and run out the door.

I literally leaped in my car seat, jammed the key in the ignition and sped off down the road. I had to get to that place. To the headquarters. To Dan's lockup. God help me if Peter had got there first and was already being taught that violence is the only way to get what you want in this life. I ignored the speed limit signs, and carried on praying to the God of Crosses, hoping he would answer my prayers and help me, even though I'm a nought. 'God, God, please, stop Peter from messing up his life before I can. I can't cope with my son going down that path like I did. I know I've made mistakes, and I've probably drawn this path out, but please, if you're fair, unlike those you're the God of, help me to stop him, to help him, before it's too late.' I prayed with all my heart, speeding until the car squealed in protest.I had to get there before it was too late. I just had to. I turned off the road and thought of nothing else as I drove.

6


End file.
